


The Narrator

by bkwrm523, FaeQueen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, blasphemy warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 14:08:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14214831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bkwrm523/pseuds/bkwrm523, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaeQueen/pseuds/FaeQueen
Summary: The reader meets Chuck.  Some time later, they realize they both have feelings for each other.  Other stuff happens.





	1. Chapter 1

“What.  The fuck, Chuck.”

“Just hold on.  I can explain.”

***

_Previously-aka the road so far…… (previously on Touched by an Angel)_

Chuck jumped about a mile high as his cell phone began ringing shrilly, startling him out of the near-trance he’d been in writing the latest Sam and Dean adventure.  He ripped his attention away from his computer in the middle of the desk, and glanced over at the cell phone lying nearby.  Chuck’s latest vision had warned of a call from Sam, but it still managed to startle him.  Chuck sighed, letting the phone ring a moment longer and ran one hand through his hair.  However long he had to get used to all this, it would never totally work.  Getting a phone call from one of your own characters was still weird.  With trepidation, ( _am I narrating myself in my own head?_   Chuck wondered idly; maybe he’d been at this for too long) Chuck reached for the phone, and answered the call.

“Hey, Sam.”  Chuck greeted the hunter.

“Chuck, listen, we wanted to give you a head’s up.  Dean and I are-” Sam began, skipping greetings to launch straight to business.

“Sending a friend over, and you wanted to warn me?”  Chuck finished the Winchester’s sentence, not waiting for him to say it.  There was a brief pause.

“Uh, yeah.  I take it you had a vision?”

“Something about protection, and you and Dean sending a hunter friend my way.”  Chuck’s voice rose at this, threatening to crack in anticipation of pressure.

“Yeah.  We, uh, we wanted to make sure you’re safe from demons and all.”

“I thought that’s what the archangel was for?”  Chuck asked with a confused frown.

“We don’t really trust them, so much.”  Sam’s voice was tired, but there was still humor in his tone.  Chuck let out a quiet chuckle.

“Based on what I’ve been seeing, I don’t really blame you.”  Chuck replied.

“See anything interesting?”  Sam asked, suddenly alert.

“Nothing you guys don’t already know.”  Chuck replied.

“Right.  Well, anyway, we just wanted to let you know.  Her name’s y/n, and she’s about-”  
  


“You don’t need to describe her.”  Chuck interrupted quickly, as soon as he registered the name Sam gave him.  His eyes slid shut for a moment, and he took a quick deep breath.  “I know who she is.”  There was a pause, and Chuck wasn’t sure what to expect from Sam.

“She wasn’t in any of the books.”  Sam replied, friendly suspicion filling his voice.  Chuck kept his eyes shut and willed his voice calm.  Not that it would help.

“Yeah, uh, her-her scenes mostly got cut.”

“Mostly?”

“Okay, all.  It just, um, just didn’t seem to… it kind of interrupted the, uh, flow of the story.”  Chuck’s stuttered explanation didn’t even convince himself.  He doubted it was convincing Sam.

“Right.”  Sam, obviously, was not convinced.  “Anyway, she should be there sometime tomorrow.  We told her we’d call ahead and warn you.”

“O-okay.”  Chuck stuttered again, restraining an audible sigh of relief when Sam chose not to press the matter.  “Thanks.”

“No problem.  See you around.”

“R-right.  You guys be careful.”

“Will do.”

Both men hung up, and Chuck sagged into his chair, covering his face with one hand.  Okay.  No problem.  Chuck’s favorite character, the one he kept out of the books because he didn’t want to share her, was coming over.

Y/n is coming over.

Y/n is coming over.  The words kept repeating in his mind.

Chuck rested a hand on the desk, and brushed an empty burger wrapper.  His eyes flew open, and he looked around the room with new eyes.

Y/n was coming over.  And Chuck hadn’t cleaned in awhile.  He stood from the chair so fast, the chair fell over and the desk rattled.  Chuck had a lot of work to get done by tomorrow.

***

There was no driveway for the house, so you parked on the street in front of it.  You’d have to remember to ask Chuck, if all went well, where to park later.  Some neighborhoods had weird rules about that sort of thing.  You stepped out of your old el Camino, the blue paint faded with age, and locked it before approaching the front door.  You knocked briskly, shoving errant strands of hair behind your ears as easily as you shoved your errant worries to the back of your mind.

Which is to say, the strands of hair dropped right back in your face.  You sighed in irritation, and just then the door swung open.

The man who opened the door, who you presumed was Chuck, fit the vague and unflattering physical description Dean had given you over the phone.  Dean had called him ‘short’; the man in front of you was taller than you, but then again that wasn’t too difficult.  He was shorter than Sam and Dean, which fit Dean’s description perfectly.  He dressed simply; a dark green polo shirt, a pair of jeans, and brown socks.  His dark brown hair was damp, and a clear attempt had been made to comb it neatly back.

“Hi.”  The man greeted you before you could say anything.  “You must be y/n.  Come in, please.”  He pushed the screen door towards you, which you grabbed and finished opening, following him inside.

“Chuck, right?”  You asked.

“Yeah.  Sam and Dean called, said you’d be coming.”  Chuck answered you nervously.  You glanced around what little of the house you could see.

A set of stairs was directly in front of the front door, leading to an upstairs that was totally shielded by walls.  Only a grey wall and white carpeting was visible for a small segment at the landing.  Downstairs, you could see, as was obvious from the outside, that the door was on the left side of the house.  The front room extended in front of you; there was an old couch under the window on the same wall as the front door, a small television in front of the couch set on a little end table, and a desk in the middle of the room with a computer and a printer.  The printer was freshly loaded with paper, the only other thing visible on the desk was a stack of printed paper sitting neatly on the opposite side of the switched-off computer as the printer.  Sliding interior doors on the opposite side of the front door were partially open, revealing a small kitchen.

The whole place smelled orangey, like scented cleaner.

So, Chuck just cleaned everything?  You highly doubted his desk was normally this tidied up.  And he’d managed to pick one of your favorite scents on cleaners.  

A little surprised, you were touched that he’d gone through the effort.  In the civilian world, you’d been lead to believe that cleaning house when a guest was staying over was standard.  Hunters rarely had time for such things.  They were more likely to give a shotgun, or a first aid kit as a housewarming gift, if they even gave one at all.  Not to mention they were usually the type of men who didn’t much care about such things as a clean house.

“With the apocalypse warming up, Sam and Dean thought it’d be better to have a hunter nearby to protect you.”  You completed your examination of the house and turned back to Chuck.

“Right.”  Chuck rubbed the back of his neck and glanced down at the floor.  “Um, thanks.  I’ve, uh, I’ve got a spare bedroom upstairs.  I cleaned the sheets and everything.  You’re welcome to stay there.”

“Thanks.”  Honestly, you half expected to stay at a nearby motel or something.  Sam and Dean’s suggestion that you protect the prophet  _had_ been a good one.  He definitely needed protecting, and you could use some time off after….. well.  The less said about  _that_ , the better.

However, their brilliant plan had failed to account for the awkwardness involved with serving as someone’s bodyguard.

“I parked out front.”  You said just as the momentary silence became awkward.  “I hope that’s all right.”

“Yeah.”  Chuck answered, seeming slightly more confident at such a mundane topic of conversation.  “Everyone does around here; you won’t get towed.”

“Cool.  I’ll just get my stuff, then.  I left it in the car.”  You gestured towards the front wall of the house, as though your words hadn’t been obvious enough.

***

The spare bedroom Chuck mentioned was small, but clean as he’d promised.  There was a small dresser in one corner you’d made use of, a tiny closet and assorted hangers sitting on the blue and white comforter on the full-sized bed.  Probably, you’d thought, he’d almost forgotten to provide hangers and thrown them there as an afterthought.  That made you chuckle softly, and you took about a half hour getting settled in your room.  Normal, you could definitely move faster; but from what you’d been told, this arrangement would probably persist for months.  So you took your time setting everything up, trying to fix your thoughts on unpacking, and ideas on how to safeguard the house.  Sam and Dean had shown you the Angel-banishing sigil, which could be incredibly useful.  The warning that it had to be in your own blood was restricting, but you had some ideas that might make it easier.  Less painful, at least.

Stubbornly, though, your thoughts returned to the one subject you’d been trying to avoid; the Wendigo hunt.  You took a deep breath and held it for a moment, closing your eyes trying to force your thoughts to steady.  Instead, memories started to flash behind your eyelids.  Near-total darkness.  A forest melting in a still-cold spring thaw.  Water dripping as you shivered in a small cave.  The words  _if he’d only listened_  running through your head over and over.

The door you’d left half shut creaks open further, drawing you out of your thoughts.  You glance over at the door to see Chuck framed in it.  Naturally, he decided to come up right as you were putting your underwear away.

Specifically, just as you were holding up a black, lacy bra.

“Hey, I-” a greeting was as far as Chuck got before he saw what you were holding.  His eyes got huge, and he turned beet red.  Chuck quickly spun around and pulled the door shut behind him.  “I’m so sorry.”  Chuck said through the door.  All the while you were still holding up the black bra in your hands, facing the dresser.

You couldn’t help it; you just started laughing.

It took you a minute or two to stop.  When you finally calmed down, you tossed the bra back on the bed, and left the room in search of Chuck.  You found him downstairs in the front room, pacing.  When Chuck saw you, he stopped pacing and started towards you, then halted.

“I’m really, really sorry.”  Chuck repeated.  He looked embarrassed and mournful, like a puppy that had just been scolded.  You smiled at him, and bit your lip.  It was sorta cute.

“Don’t worry about it.”  You replied, giggles still audible in your voice.  “What was it you were trying to say?”

“Oh!  Right, sorry.  I, uh, I was gonna say there isn’t really much to eat in the house.  There’s this Chinese restaurant nearby that’s pretty good, if you feel like dinner?”  Chuck was hesitant, like he expected you to turn him down.

“Sound great.”  You reply, careful to sound gentle.  “My car or yours?”

“I can drive.”  Chuck replied immediately.  “You hate driving in rush hour traffic.”  You had been moving towards the door to grab your purse, when you heard his last statement.  You halted, and turned around to look at him with an eyebrow raised.

“Did I say that out loud?”  Chuck asked, looking really nervous.

“I’m going to go ahead and guess that you had visions of me?”  You asked, laughing again.

“A few, yeah.”  Chuck replied, looking relieved and embarrassed.

“I may have to read these books.”  You teased.

“Oh, please don’t!”  Chuck looked suddenly terrified as he followed you out the door.

“Why not?”  You asked Chuck as you climbed into the passenger seat of his car.

“It’s just- they’re, uhm, they’re not very… good.”

“I’m sure they’re much better than you think.”  You told him comfortingly, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.  Your heart went out to him at the vulnerable tone in his voice.

“I, uh, I kinda cut you from the books.”  Chuck told you, his face turning beet red.

“What?”  Okay,  _now_ you were starting to get offended.  “Why?”

“It’s just, uh, this was so much easier when I didn’t know you were real.”

“That part doesn’t offend me.”  You told Chuck easier.

“Really?”  Chuck asked.  “Why not?”

“It’s not like it was  _your_ idea.”  You told him.  “Sam and Dean said God’s using you as a prophet, right?  You didn’t  _know_ we were real when you wrote it.  If I’d be mad at anyone, it’d be God, not you.”

“That’s, uh, that’s not the way Sam and Dean saw it.”  Chuck flushed and didn’t meet your eyes.

***

Dinner with Chuck went well, and over the course of the next few weeks, you two fell into routines.  You were usually awake before he was, and you started noticing how many meals he’d skip if he was in a writing frenzy.  It had been a long time since you’d done a lot of cooking, but you still remembered a few things.  So you took to doing some grocery shopping and cooking some simple things, reminding him to take a break and eat when necessary.  You even managed to pester him into a couple hours spent on netflix some nights.  His mental health, you felt, was improving a little.  Chuck swore that his writing was the better for it, but still didn’t let you see any of it.  You didn’t pry; he was allowed to be insecure if he wanted to.  And by now, you trusted him to tell you if there was something in his writing that you could do something about, or something that affected you.

Chuck, over the weeks, even got you to open up a little.  You found yourself staying up later than you meant to, or getting distracted at odd moments just to chat with him.  You hadn’t known each other long, but a friendship quickly began to form.  Chuck never pried into why you were taking a break from hunting, but you slowly started to suspect that he already knew.  Chuck was a prophet, after all.  He may have gotten a vision about it.  All in all, things didn’t get too exciting until about three weeks later.

“We’re going to have to make the store run before dinner.”  Chuck told you, appearing in your open doorway.  You glanced up, carefully setting down on the towel you’d laid out the machete you’d been cleaning, and glanced briefly at the wall clock.  It was 2:43.

“We should probably get it out of the way now, then.”  You replied, standing up and following Chuck down the stairs.  “Why are we going early?”  The two of you quickly grabbed shoes and your purse before leaving and piling into your car.  It had a bigger trunk than Chuck’s, making it a better choice in case you wound up getting a lot.  Plus it was a little cleaner than Chuck’s, much to his embarrassment.

“There was a news report earlier; the cops are recommending a curfew.”  Chuck told you casually.  Instantly, your rusty hunter’s instincts perked up.

“Why?”  You asked, frowning curiously.

“People have been-” Chuck started casually, then hesitated and looked over at you.  His next words slowed down, and his tone was suspicious.  “Going missing every couple of nights.  Oh, no.”

“What?”

“You’re  _not_ thinking there’s a case.”

“Chuck, trust me.  The last thing I want to be doing is taking a case.”  Honestly, you’d started sweating a little when he mentioned it.  “But if something  _is_ up, and I’m the only hunter close enough to handle it, I can’t just let people die.”

“You are  _not_ ready after-” Chuck started, then stopped abruptly and turned beet red, realizing his mistake too late.  You didn’t yell, didn’t glare, didn’t slam on the car’s breaks.  You took a deep breath and held it for a moment, before exhaling and speaking.

“You know about that?”  You asked, surprised at how level your voice was.

“Um.”  Chuck fixed his gaze down at his hands resting in his lap.  “I had a, uh, vision.”  There was a long moment of silence in the car.  “I’m the one who called Sam and Dean.”

“You- you called…” you frowned.

“Yeah.”  Chuck smiled and laughed quietly a little.  “I didn’t see much.  Just, uh, that guy you were working with, Rick?  He ignored you, because he’s an asshole.   _Was_ an asshole.  And I saw that Wendigo kill everyone but you.”  Chuck was looking at you; you could feel his eyes on you heavy and concerned.  You didn’t return the look; traffic was too heavy, fortunately.  “You were scared, alone and in trouble.  The first thing I did was call Sam and Dean and told them to get there fast.”  
  
“Thanks.”  You probably should have said more, but anxiety grabbed tight ahold of your vocal chords and wouldn’t let go.

Eager to change the subject, you turned your attention to the prospect of a hunt.  “So what do you know about whatever’s causing trouble?”  Chuck frowned, obviously still not too keen on the idea of you being out for a hunt.

You thought you were going to have to convince him but after a moment he spoke.  “The signs are odd; heart ripped out blood and guts everywhere but here’s the odd thing I picked up;” he turned to look at you.  “Electrical burns on each of the victims.”

You raised an eyebrow at that and he flushed.  “I know a couple people in law enforcement; no one local though.  They ran the case through the data bank as protocol.”

Nodding you pulled in at the grocery store and got out.  “Okay, tonight research and tomorrow I’m gonna hunt this fugly ass son of a bitch down.”  You filled your voice with false confidence, hoping Chuck wouldn’t notice that you were trying to convince yourself as much as him.  Chuck looked deeply worried at the prospect.  

“Look I can come with you-” Chuck started, still sounding concerned.  

“Absolutely not; I’m supposed to be protecting you, remember?  And since we don’t know what we’re dealing with, you wouldn’t be safe anyway.”  You instantly vetoed that idea.

Chuck nodded still not enthused but understanding.  “You’re right.  So, research then?”  Chuck sounded conflicted; he was at once relieved that he wouldn’t have to put himself in danger, ashamed that he was so willing to throw you in instead, and desperately worried about your state of mind.  You nodded at his question.

“Yeah, but after dinner and an hour or two of Netflix first.”  You smiled at him, trying to disguise your hand’s shaking.  Chuck was right; you were  _not_ ready for a hunt.  But if there was something supernatural in town killing people, who else was there?

***

After an hour of watching the news and doing research on the possible case, you were cold and sweating.  You tried to conceal your fear, but from the way Chuck was eyeing you, you had a feeling he knew.

The ‘possible case’ was looking more and more like a possible Wendigo.

Chuck had made dinner while you were preoccupied.  Normally, you did most of the cooking; Chuck had a habit of getting lost in his writing, so you made it your job to pester him into taking breaks for things like food, showers, and short walks when he got stuck or just needed some air.  This time, however, Chuck seemed to realize that you were getting a little hung up, and announced dinner before you even realized you were hungry.

“I’m going to go talk to the local cops tomorrow.”  You told Chuck, happily digging into the freezer-isle pizza.  Hey, it didn’t  _need_ to be fancy to be delicious and sweet.

“I’m coming with you.”  Chuck announced, taking a bite of his own slice.  You froze in the middle of chewing, startled by his statement.  After a moment, you finished chewing and swallowed.

“I thought we said you were staying behind for this one.”  You asked, careful to make your voice casual.  As tempting as it was to just order him around, the confidence in his tone suggested that he wouldn’t take it well.

“Well, for the actual  _hunt_ , sure.  But this is just talking to people, right?  I thought you could use the company.”  Chuck replied, glancing down at his plate in a spout of familiar shyness.  “Besides, I -uh, I kinda like spending time with you.”  His eyes stayed fixed on his plate for a minute, before lifting to meet yours with a pleading expression.  You can’t squash the smile that grows on your face in response.

“Using puppy eyes on me, Chuck?”  You asked lightly.  “You should be ashamed.”

“Is it working?”

“Ugh.”  You roll your eyes.  “Yes, fine.  We’ll go together.”

***

“Chuck.”  The man behind the front desk at the small police station was slightly overweight and balding, and his tone was already condescending.  “What brings you and your  _friend_ out here?”

Okay, you already hated this guy.

Chuck turned red, angry on your behalf and embarrassed.  He was probably also realizing that you two hadn’t agreed on a story to tell the cops.  Fortunately, you had one prepared.  You reached into a coat pocket and pulled out your real and very legal P.I. license, and showed it to him.

“Private dick?”  The cop asked before you could introduce yourself, disbelieving.  “What’s nice lady dick like yourself doing with Chucky, here?”

“His publisher hired me.”  Your tone was colder than Lucifer’s breath, and your serious glare was enough to wither the man’s arrogant confidence.  “He’s been receiving death threats, so the company hired me to keep an eye on him until  _their_ local cops can get to the bottom of it.”  The cop opened his mouth again, either to apologize or fire back.  You didn’t care.  “I need to see the bodies that have been turning up lately.  It could be related to Chuck’s death threats, so I need to know everything you have on the case.”

“Um, yeah.  Sure.”  The man said, now sounding smaller at your confidence.  “I’ll just go get the detective on the case for you.”

***

You and Chuck emerged from the police station some time later, your confident mood from earlier totally gone.  It was looking more and more like you were facing a Wendigo that had somehow wandered to a city.  Chuck stayed with you as you interviewed various witnesses, gathering more information regarding the hunt.  By the end of the day, you were tired and depressed.  Chuck insisted on taking you out to dinner, but you told him you weren’t really up for company.  So he had another brilliant idea, and insisted you wait in the car at the grocery store while he picked up a surprise.  You looked at him, a little dubious, but agreed.  It hadn’t taken Chuck long to come out with a single plastic bag, double bagged, inside a large paper bag.  Just to make it completely impossible to tell what he’d gotten.  It wasn’t until you’d gotten back to his house that you found out what he’d chosen for dinner.

  
Pie.

A whole pie, your favorite flavor, all for dinner.  After the day you’d had, you were starving, and inhaled about ¾ of it before you finally had to put it aside.  Chuck’s happy grin at how well his plan had worked had you laughing, and distracted by how adorable he was.

The next day, you left Chuck behind, made a stop at a hardware store, and went to bag yourself a Wendigo.  For once, it went as planned.  Well, mostly.  The survivors, after witnessing firsthand how strange the truth had been, all agreed to the story you’d told.  It was a bear that had them.  You’d been taking a walk, suspecting they were in this area due to a hunch, happened across them, and shot  _at_ the bear until it ran off.  After which, you’d escorted them back to town and medical attention.  Huzzah.

You may, however, have neglected to mention the cut in your side when you’d taken the survivors to the hospital.

It hadn’t seemed bad, at first.  Not too deep, not worth troubling anyone over.  But as you were driving home, exhausted and hungry well after dark, your vision began to blur.  When stopped at a light, you peeled back layers of jacket and sweater and shirt to look at the wound.  There was a lot more blood than you’d counted on.  You took a deep breath and pressed on hand to your side, trying to keep things from getting too much worse than they already were.

By the time you made it in the door, you were stumbling like a drunk.  You fumbled in one pocket for your key, before the door flew open to reveal a worried Chuck.  He’d probably had a vision of how things had gone and been worried sick.  The last clear memory you had was of stumbling while attempting to enter the house, and Chuck quickly grabbing you and supporting you into the house.  The rest was a blur.

For as much blood as you were covered in, Chuck was surprisingly calm about the whole thing.  He had helped you to a chair and passed you a large glass of -something, assuring you it would help.  You were in too much pain to care, so you downed the first and second glasses in rapid succession.

By the fifth you were giggling uncontrollably.

“Do you get a holiday bonus?”  You slurred through the question.  Chuck frowned at you, amused and curious by how giggly you were.  It was a natural reaction.  Take anyone; and if they were in the room with someone laughing too hard to get a joke out, it’ll make you laugh, too.

“What do you mean?”  Chuck asked you.

“You kinda work for God.  It’s definitely not a non-rellligos orgnns-” you frowned a moment, the word too complex for you to manage.  “Group!  Itsa rellligos group.  So you should get a Christmas bonus.  Maybe threaten to go on strike.”

A smile formed on Chuck’s face, breaking through the sternly concentration exterior.

“I think you might have had a little too much of that.”  Chuck’s voice is amused, not judging.  Still, you pout.

“Party pooper.  Serosly though!  You should get overtime and holidays off.  You should make a union!”

Chuck did laugh that time, pausing patching you up to avoid damaging you further.  You grinned at him.

“I made the prophet laugh!”  You half sang at him, triumphant.

“You need to stop squirming.”  Chuck replied, laughter still in his voice.  “I’m almost done.”

“Smiiiile a little, Chuuck.  Its good for you!”  You sat still like his asked, but lifted a hand to push a corner of his mouth up in an odd- looking half smile.

A small, real smile lit up his face and he glanced up at you.  You smiled back, enjoying the warmth in his gaze.

“All done.”  Chuck told you softly.

“Kiss it better?”  You asked plaintively, making your best puppy eyes.  The wound had been on the side of your torso, and bandages wrapped your middle.  You had tried to take off your shirt completely so he could get at it better, but Chuck had stopped you just in time, reassuring you in a stutter that just lifting your shirt would be just fine.

Chuck hesitated a moment when you asked, and you saw his pupils widen as he glanced down at you with hunger for a moment.  Then, the moment passed and he shook his head.  Chuck pulled your shirt back down, covering you, and pulled you to your feet with one arm slung over his shoulder.

“Come on.”  Chuck told you gently.  “You’re going to need some rest.  Let’s get you upstairs.”  You pout for a long moment, until you and Chuck tackle the stairs.  You wouldn’t normally have a problem with them; your injury has nothing to do with your legs, after all.  Must have been all that alcohol that was making the stairs move.  Chuck chuckled roughly next to you; you must have said some of that out loud.

“Yeah, I gave you too much.  Sorry.  I just-didn’t want you to hurt, I guess.”  Chuck told you ruefully.  You melted a little.

“You’re tooooo adorable.”  You coo at him.  “Love your haaands.  So strong.”

Chuck laughed again at that.

“I doubt that.  I’m just a writer.”  Chuck told you.

“They felt strong when you were touching me!”  You protest on his behalf.  This conversation has derailed significantly from your intentions.  Time to get it back on track.  Chuck gave you a sideways glance; your innuendo apparently didn’t go unnoticed.  Chuck inhaled deeply, holding it for a moment before releasing it.  You two reached the top of the stairs and you stumbled a little, expecting an extra step that didn’t come.  Chuck easily absorbed your stumble, holding still for a moment to let you regain your balance a little.  The hand of his that was furthest from you was holding the hand you had slung around his shoulder.  His other hand rose to wrap around your waist and pull you into him.  You let out a little half-awake pleased mumble at the contact, enjoying the feel of his arm around you.

“Just through here,” Chuck urged you, nudging the door open to reveal the guest bedroom you’d been staying in.  You turned bleary eyes to Chuck.

“Wrought iron?  Sherously?  Who you ‘spectin, fairies?”  You giggled at your own joke.  Chuck shrugged.

“You can’t be too careful; and besides-” Chuck began, and there it was again; that  _look_.  The one that made your insides turn to fucking jelly and made you want, no,  _need_ to do unspeakable things to the prophet.

You dimly realized he was trying to tuck you in for the night.  Your arms shot up, wrapping around him and trying to pull him into bed with you.  “Sthay with me?  Pwease?”  Chuck’s gaze slowly swept your form and you could tell he was so close,  _so close_  to giving in you could practically taste it.  

You could’ve sworn you heard him mutter; “damn should’ve put the kid through this instead of forty days.”  But then he looked at you and smiled slightly.  “Another night, darling.  Not while you’re drunk.”

“I sound like Elmer Fudd.”  The words spilled out of your lips as you gave him a pout.  Wait; wrong expression with the wrong words.  You hadn’t meant to say that.  Chuck burst out laughing for a long moment, his infectious smile drawing giggles from you.  After a moment, Chuck leaned down and kissed you on the forehead.  You lifted your arm and tugged at his sleeve, intent on pleading your case with him, but your brain chose that moment to drop into sleep.

***

Everything hurt and you wanted to vomit.

 _No_.  You thought at yourself firmly without opening your eyes.  _No vomiting_.  Someone was groaning.  Why was someone groaning?  You inwardly wished whoever it was would stop; the sound was grating on your nerves.

It took you a good minute or two to realize that  _you_ were the one doing the groaning.

“Sounds like we have a survivor.”  Chuck’s voice came from the slightly open doorway.  He walked in the room, holding a tall glass of water and a bottle.  You groaned, and grabbed the unused pillow next to you and covered your face with it.

“Stop shouting.”  You whined pitifully, your voice muffled by the pillow.  Footsteps came closer, and you felt the bed depress as Chuck sat down next to you.

“Sorry.”  Chuck’s voice, although closer, was softer now, and some of the pain in your head receded.  You heard a clink from the nightstand.  “Water and some asprin next to you, when you can keep it down.”  A hand grasped one of yours where it was visible on the pillow and squeezed.

“Oh, thank fuck.”  You moaned gratefully into the pillow.  You moved the pillow away, dropping it back on the bed next to you and gave him a grateful look with wide eyes.  “Are you God?”  Chuck looked startled for a moment, and the laugh he burst out in was nervous and involuntary.

“Ah, no.”  Chuck replied carefully.  “I-uh, I just work for him.”  Chuck hesitated for a moment, before he leaned forward and kissed you gently on the cheek.  His lips were soft, and combined with the feel of his rough beard brushing your cheek, you were surprised when your eyes fluttered shut and you had to suppress a sigh.  A smile leaked through to your face.

“Then you should definitely have a pay raise with all the crap you’ve been forced to put up with lately.”  You told him, trying to lighten the serious mood that the room’s been thrown into.

“There’s been the good moments too, you know.”  Chuck replied with a shrug, glancing away from you bashfully with a blush lighting his cheeks.  You smiled again, warmed by his adorableness.

“Like what exactly?”  You asked teasingly.

“Meeting you, for instance.”  Chuck replied, eyes lifting back up to meet yours.  Okay, now  _that_ caught your attention.

“Meeting me?”  You asked incredulously.  Chuck nodded running a hand aimlessly up and down your back and sending shivers down your spine.  His hand on your back seems to just melt the pain from the headache away, leaving only gentle care and desire for the humble man in front of you.

“Yeah, you were more than I expected.”  Chuck told you, smiling warmly at your surprise.  You fell silent, not sure what to say to that.  A prophet of the lord, surprised by you?  Chuck laughed again, glancing down briefly.

“You, uh, you don’t give yourself enough credit.  I mean, you’re a hunter.  You risk your life every day for people you don’t know.  People who will never appreciate it.”  Chuck praised you, eyes fixed firmly on the floor.  “I, uh, I was getting visions of you for about a year.  I just never put you in the books.  It’s stupid but, uh, I guess….” Chuck paused, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck nervously.  You didn’t say anything; you were afraid if he heard you speak, he might have lost his nerve.  You sat up on the bed and rested one hand on top of his hand nearest yours, squeezing lightly and trying to will him the courage to continue.  Chuck glanced up then, meeting your eyes with his and capturing you.  Your breath stopped for a moment, locked in the earnest gaze, grateful for your support.

“I guess I sort of wanted to keep you for myself.”  Chuck continued finally, breathing the words softly as his eyes stayed fixed on yours.  Your breath stuttered out unevenly, and you force yourself to inhale.  Chuck leaned forward towards you, his movements so small that they were almost imperceptible.  Then, without warning, he stood.

“I should- I should go.  You probably, uh, you probably have a headache.”  Chuck stuttered out.  Your hand still held his, so he didn’t make it far.  He just turned away from you and shifted his weight uneasily.  You tightened your grip on his hand and shook your head.

“No,” you replied.  “I mean I did.  But, I dunno.  It mostly went away.”  Chuck turned back to you slightly, raising an eyebrow.  His posture and body language, in that moment, are all so confident for an instant that your breath caught again, and you found the courage to come on to him again.

“Maybe I’m your Christmas bonus?”  You suggested, trying to glance coyly at him.  “All wrapped up in a pretty red bow?”  Chuck’s jaw worked silently, shocked into silence.  For a long moment, he just stared at you.  Long enough to make you worry.  Then he laughed, covering his face with one hand.

“Well, you, uh, you make a very tempting picture.”  Chuck replied finally, rubbing his eyes with his hand before looking back up at you with a smile.  You returned his smile gratefully, taking this reply as a sign that he wasn’t laughing at you.  Your eyes locked on each other.

“Enough eyefucking.”  You growled at him.  “Get over here already.”  Chuck smiled a huge, brilliant, dangerous smile and dropped your hand.  He straightened his posture, suddenly seeming  _bigger_ , his presence stealing your breath.  He took two short steps back to you, and sat back down on the bed.

“You’re very demanding today.”  Chuck observed quietly, confident dominance in his every move and word.  You tried to tug him closer with the hand holding yours, but he didn’t move.  You pouted at him, but Chuck just raised an eyebrow at you.  You let out a huge sigh.

“Please?”  You begged finally.  Chuck smirked at you, and  _finally_ leaned forwards.  Your eyes fluttered shut.  He hesitated, his lips so close to yours that you could feel his breath on you.

Then, you felt the rough scratch of his beard against your skin, and his mouth was on yours.  You let out a soft moan, leaning into him as you absorbed the movements of his lips against yours and the pleasant burn of his beard.  You released his hand to bury both of your hands in his hair, trying to tug him closer.  Chuck leaned, barely perceptible, forwards and backwards with the rhythm of the kiss.  Warmth suddenly bloomed on your side near your hip, his hand resting you.  His other hand landed on your shoulder, massaging gently until he draws more contented moans from you.  His tongue licked at your lips, requesting entrance.  A whimper left you, and you let him in without thinking twice.  A startled squeak left you involuntarily, as you quickly realized that the seemingly sheltered prophet was a surprisingly experienced kisser.  You could feel his lips curl up in a smile at how easily you were melting under his influence.  And this was just a kiss.  Just the  _first_ kiss.

 _God_ , you thought.   _If I’m getting this wet from a kiss, what’s he going to be like when we get further?_

Chuck broke from your lips then, leaving you both panting.  You leaned forwards for a moment, trying to follow his mouth in mourning over the loss of his mouth on yours, kissing away your ability to think.  Chuck chuckled again ( _seriously?  ‘Chuck chuckled’?_ ).  His eyes were heavy on yours, both of you eager with desire for each other.  For a moment, you thought he was going to speak.  But then he moved again.

The feeling of his beard on your neck drove away every thought remaining in your head.  Your head dropped back on your shoulders, tilting away from his mouth to expose more skin for his perusal.  Chuck hummed at your reaction, making a pleased sound at the whimpers you were emitting.  He instantly sought out the spot behind your ear, sucking gently.  Your hands moved, groping at him until they landed on his shoulders and clenching tightly as he sucked harder at you, your cries and whimpers coming more and more until you were a little dizzy.  Most men you’d been with in the past moved on past this spot after a few moments.

Not Chuck.

He continued to suck at it eagerly until your hands started clawing at his shoulders, whimpers and pleas coming steadily from you.

 _Minutes_ later, he pulled his head back from you again, enjoying the panting, desperate look on your face with an expression of awe.  His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, tugging lightly and looking at you with a pleading expression.

Asking permission to take your clothes off.

With a growl of frustration, you grabbed the hem yourself and lifted it off.

You were wearing a tank top, shorts, and a pair of panties.  And you’re  _positive_ that you didn’t have those things on when you were hunting yesterday.  Had Chuck changed your clothes?

That wonder flew away when you felt the warmth of his hand again, this time on your breast, and his thumb rubbing your nipple gently.

Chuck leaned forward, nipping at the other side of your neck as his hands went to work on your breasts, tugging and rubbing and  _pinching_ sharply as his mouth sucked at the other side of your neck, indubitably placing an identical hickey there as well.  You let out a high pitched whine and closed your eyes, unable to give any response but surrender.

“Oh, god.”  You breathed.  Chuck nipped your neck sharply at the words.  “Chuck, god,  _please_.”  Chuck stopped sucking for a moment, resting his head on your neck and breathing hard into your skin.  You took the opportunity and tilted your head to lick at his ear.  He took a shuddering breath that you could feel at your tongue’s action.  Encouraged, you pulled the top of the shell of his ear into your mouth and sucked hard, drawing a groan from deep in his chest.  You let out a soft moan of pleasure at his reaction.

Your noise seemed to startle something in Chuck, and he came back to himself then.  He grabbed your shoulders, and gently pulled you away from him and shoved them back against the mattress.  You glanced up at him, startled and panting with wide eyes, arousal at how forceful he was stealing your voice.  Chuck’s hands hooked in the top of your spandex shorts and yanked them down your legs, pulling your panties off with them.  He placed your legs outstretched on the bed, and just sat there for a moment staring at your naked form with hunger.  You bit your lip, impatient, and wiggled enticingly in an effort to tempt him back into action.  Chuck smiled at you, and you briefly wondered if you’d have to start fingering yourself or something to annoy him, before he moved.

Chuck’s hands went to the hem of his tshirt, pulling it off over his head to expose a bare, surprisingly muscular, chest.  You licked your lips hungrily, and tried to sit up, needing to taste him.  Chuck was too fast, however, and caught your shoulders before you could, pushing you back down to the bed.  He moved, settling himself between your legs, eagerly parting for him.  He leaned down to your breasts and gently nuzzled one before engulfing the nipple in his mouth.  You gasped and arched into him, your hands burying in his hair.  You groaned his name, and your heels scrambled around his hips, digging into his ass.

His teeth bit at your nipple hard, causing a pleasant burn from the pain to push your arousal higher.  You moaned and tried to arch further into him, wanting more of the feeling.  His warm hand caressed your neglected breast, kneading it as he nipped and sucked at your nipple until you gave little whimpers of pleasure and need.  Finally, Chuck relented and grabbed your remaining nipple in his fingers and tweaked it sharply.  You yelled his name at the stimulation, your hands tugging his hair hard until he gave a pleased moan.

Eventually, Chuck released your breasts from his mouth and hands, and your back thudded back down to the mattress.  You tried to catch your breath again, but his mouth was on yours, kissing the life out of you again.  You gave a tired, aroused moan into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.  One of his arms was bent and planted on the mattress next to your head, supporting his weight.  The other made its presence known when you felt his fingers gently stroking your outer lips.  You let out a whine into his mouth, startled by the attention, joined by his groan when he felt how wet you already were.  His fingers kept stroking just your outer lips for awhile, while he kissed you gently.  Too gently.

“Chuck,” you gasped.  You buried one hand in his hair and tugged lightly, breaking the kiss.  Chuck smirked, eyes dark with lust and mirth.

“Hmm?”  Chuck replied, clearly enjoying your torment.

“God damnit, Chuck, just- ooohhhh.”  You tried to demand that he do something, but he chose just then to circle your clit lightly.

“Now that’s not a very nice way to talk about my boss.”  Chuck admonished you, his voice annoyingly calm and unaffected.  “What did he ever do to you?”

The arm you had around his shoulders still dropped down to clutch at the elbow of the hand teasing your pussy, trying to push him into giving you more.

“Chuck, please.”  You whined.  His fingers were moving so slow, it  _wasn’t fucking enough._

“You’re so beautiful like this.”  Chuck breathed, awe clear in his tone and expression.  “Tell me what you need.”  His voice dropped lower, commanding.  You mewled submissively.

“More, please.”  You begged him.

“More what?”  God, he was relentless.  You moaned and tossed your head to the side, trying to thrust your hips into him.

“Focus.”  Chuck continued sternly, moving his hand in time with your thrust so it accomplished nothing.  “What do you need more of?”

“You.  Anything.  Just you- oh!”  You finally managed to reply.  Chuck’s fingers delved into you then, thrusting and rubbing until you saw stars.

His fingers thrusted in and out of you, his rhythm hard and steady.  You let go of his hair, fearing your grip would hurt him, and let the hand fall back to his shoulders.  Your other hand at his elbow dropped to the mattress, unable to continue through the force of his assault.  His fingers wandered inside you searching for your spot.

“Where are you, baby?  Show me.”  Chuck leaned down and nipped at your lips, his eyes fixed on your face as his fingers sought inside of you.  You whimpered at the attention.

“I got visions sometimes when you spent nights with other men.”  Chuck murmured.  “I used to like it, until I found out you were real.  Then I hated each one.”  You whimpered helplessly under the double assault of his fingers and his voice, simultaneously sweet and dirty.

“I know, it was selfish.”  His words barely penetrated the fog of lust in your brain as your end loomed in sight, just barely within reach.  Just then, his fingers finally found your gspot, making you scream and thrash, like a madwoman.

“But you’re right; with all the crap I’ve had to put up with, you are my reward.”  Your nails clawed at the sheets and you gasped for air.

“Chuck  _please_!”  You were certain you would go out of your mind before he was through teasing you.

“Please what?”  The grin on his face was entirely too smug for your taste.

You opened your mouth to try and articulate your words, but all that came out was a wild, broken cry.

Finally when you could speak, you growled up at him.  “Chuck Shurley, if you don’t give me your cock right this minute I swear I will get the one out of my bag and get myself off instead!”

A howl of pure delight left your lips as suddenly you were filled to your limits.  You looked up at him to see an almost dangerous look in his eyes.  Dark, storming, and almost cosmic in a way.  You have no idea when he lost his clothes, but as amazing and  _full_ as his cock inside you makes you feel, you don’t care.  Chuck groaned and buried his face in your collarbone, his breath coming in short pants as you both just lie there and adjust to the feeling.  He nips your collarbone, startling a squeak out of you, and you glance down at him.  The fierce look was back, and you felt like putty under him.  Chuck shifted above you, settling his weight on both arms planted on either side of your chest, sharply bent at the elbow.  His eyes held yours, drinking you in as his hips pulled back and started thrusting.

Your head fell back, burying in the pillow and your hands scratched at his shoulders.  You were already so dizzy and drunk with pleasure at his earlier work with hand and dirty talk, that you struggled to do more than sit there and absorb the feeling of his cock thrusting deep inside you, brushing your gspot with every thrust.  You tried to speak, to moan his name, but all you seemed to be able to manage were whimpers and groans.  You buried one hand in his hair, tugging as his cock quickly drew the coil of pleasure in your belly tighter and tighter.  Chuck groaned, and his mouth slammed down on yours.  His thrusts grew sharper, wilder, and more erratic.  You moaned in relief into his mouth;  _finally_ , he was close.  You weren’t sure how much longer you could hold back.

“Beautiful.”  Chuck murmured.  “So beautiful.   _Mine_.”  The last word was snarled.

“Yours,” you whimpered, helpless beneath him.  Chuck growled, and that seemed to be the final straw.

Chuck bit your bottom lip hard, and you screamed his name, unable to hold back your orgasm any longer.  His hips shoved into yours and  _ground_  his pelvis against you, stimulating your clit mercilessly.  Moments later, Chuck shouted your name and exploded inside you, his hips pistoning into yours so hard the bed shook and creaked alarmingly.  Your back arched into him, your vision turning white with bliss as you clenched helplessly, milked on and on by Chuck’s orgasm.

Finally, you both collapsed to the bed, panting much harder than the recent hunt had made you breathe.  Chuck’s face dropped to your neck, and neither of you tried to speak for a long moment, trying to catch your breath.  His hips kept twitching in aftershocks, moving his cock inside you and sending little jolts of pleasure up your spine.  You made a wordless hum of exhausted, sated pleasure.  Chuck lifted his head and kissed the corner of your mouth, before tilting his hips to gently pull out of you.  He rolled to the side onto his back, one arm pulling you into him.  You complied, snuggling into his side.

“Let’s definitely do that again later.”  Chuck finally broke the silence.  You giggled and lifted your head to look at him.

“Yeah.  But later; maybe when I can feel my legs.”  You agreed with a fond smile.

***

Time passed, and you and Chuck were happy together for awhile.  Even with the apocalypse making it seem like everything was falling apart.  But then, Dean needed help stopping it.  You were successful, but neither you nor Dean felt like celebrating; too much had been lost.

You’d returned to the house, tired and depressed, ready for a hug and a kind word from your boyfriend.  But the house had been torn apart, and there was no sign of Chuck.

 _Damn_ those angels. once the apocalypse was derailed, there wasn’t any need for the Prophet, so why bother protecting him, right?

You’d fallen to the floor and sobbed.  You never quite forgave yourself for not being there when Chuck had died.

Years had passed; Sam came back, and you were still a hunter.  You even worked with the Winchesters occasionally.  Dean somehow completely understood how you’d changed, although Sam struggled with it.  Like you, Dean had faced that terrible year after the apocalypse where you’d both had to go on, missing the people most important to you.  Dean’s year had ended; yours never did.

You forced yourself to live again; you had friends, had fun in between hunts.  Laughed, made jokes.  But you never slept with anyone again.  You kept telling yourself you just weren’t ready.  It was too soon after Chuck.  Never mind that it had been years; it always seemed to be too soon.

Until, one day, you found yourself alone on a demon hunt.

There’d been children kidnapped in this town for weeks, and the local police had no leads.  Most other hunters wrote it off as an ordinary human kidnapping ring.  Horrifying, to be sure, but not supernatural and therefore not their problem.  You were less certain, in the area, and had nothing better to do.  So why not investigate?

Turns out it was supernatural after all.

You crouched behind a low wall in the abandoned building, listening to the lead demon pontificate to the others in the room, and silently cursed yourself for not calling in backup before it was too late.  There had to be around fifty demons in the room; there was no way you could take them all on yourself.  You risked another glance over the wall around the room.  You’d found bodies of all the unfortunate children except for one.  That one, a little girl with blond hair in a tattered light blue dress (proof that cliches  _do_ sometimes happen) was in a metal cage against the middle of one wall.  Not the far wall from you, fortunately.  But it was the far wall from the room’s only exit.

You crouched back down behind the wall and went over your options.  You  _couldn’t_ take all the demons on in a fight.  And you definitely couldn’t crap out and escape.  Your only option left that you could see, was stealth.  You’d have to sneak over to the cage, get the girl out, keep her quiet, and sneak over to the exit, all without the demons discovering you.  No pressure.  There was a low table, resembling an altar in front of the cage that would hide enough of it for you to pick the cage’s lock without being seen.  You sighed.  No time like the present; there was no telling how long the demons’ leader would continue his speech for, so you couldn’t afford to waste any time.

Sneaking over to the cage, you had to temper stealth with speed, and took a lot of chances that nearly turned your hair white.  But eventually, you managed to make it unseen.

“Stay quiet, don’t let them know I’m here.”  You whispered to the little girl as soon as you came within hearing range.  “I’m going to get you out, but you have to stay quiet so they don’t notice us.”  The poor thing  _had_ to be terrified, but her crying at the wrong moment could get you both killed.  You tried to inject your tone with as much comfort as possible, and smiled at her.  She turned to look at you, crouching in front of her cage and pulling your lockpicks out of a pocket.  She smiled back, reassuring you.

Then her eyes turned black.

You froze, and she gave an inhuman scream, drawing the attention of all the demons in the room.  Shit.

The cage still being locked meant the little girl was still in there and couldn’t add to the fight, thankfully.  Little idiot.  If she’d waited until you let her out, things might have been even harder.

Then again, with about fifty demons ganging up on you at once, you didn’t stand much of a chance.  How big a difference could fifty one make?  You fought well, lasting an impressive amount of time alone against them.  All the training you’d done helped.  As did the fact that you knew better than to fight them directly; your main goal at this point was escaping.  You were mostly trying to reach the exit so you could run.  Time enough to worry about killing them when the odds were in your favor.  Now that it was clear there was no one to rescue, there was no point in staying.

However, the inevitable did happen, and you were surrounded.  Internally, you remembered Dean after the apocalypse.  You two had kept in touch, and been a huge source of support for each other.  Dean was a big reason you got it together enough to return to hunting eventually.  He convinced you to move on.  You remembered him getting in your face during one of you bad moments, and making you promise him to keep trying.

 _Dean, Chuck_.  Your mind whispered.  You continued to fight, but you knew you had moments before you were overpowered and killed.   _I’m sorry._

One of the demons grabbed you from behind, and restrained you.  Another in front of you hoisted a machete, and lined up a swing at you head.  The blade moved, and you closed your eyes.

There was a very soft, audible  _whoosh_ sort of noise.  The body behind you restraining you disappeared, and the air changed.  The expected blow never came.  You frowned.

“Open your eyes.”  A voice came.  It sounded in front of you, a short distance.  It was a voice you never thought you’d hear again.  Your breath caught in your throat.  No.  It  _couldn’t_ be.  Someone who just sounded like him, or the demons playing games.  That was all.

“Please.”  The same voice came after a few moments passed and nothing happened.  “I promise you’re safe.  Just open your eyes.”

You finally obeyed, and looked around.  You were in a motel room.  It wasn’t the sort of motel the brothers winchester frequented; probably a part of some reasonably priced motel chain.  There were two queen sized beds, an armchair and a little table next to the door, and a small sink next to a door that obviously led to a bathroom.  No kitchen space.  The walls were a simple off white, and the decor of the room was white with little blue accents.  You were standing between the beds and the large television.  Sitting on one of the beds, with you facing each other, was Chuck.

“What- how-” you tried to speak, but couldn’t manage a full sentence.  Chuck looked nervous and hesitant, like he wasn’t sure what reaction to expect from you.  You tried to take a step towards him, to touch him and see if he’s real, but a fresh cut on one leg had you making a small noise of pain, and your knee buckled.  Before you could fall, Chuck stood and quickly grabbed your shoulders, supporting you.  Another soft whoosh noise came, and suddenly you felt better.  Like, totally better.  Like you did when an angel healed you better.  Your eyes went huge and you stared at Chuck in shock.  You had no idea what to think.

“What.  The fuck, Chuck.”  You demanded.

“Just, hold on.  I can explain.”  Chuck quickly said nervously.


	2. Chapter 2

“Did you just  _heal_ me?”  You fumed.  “What the hell are you?”

“It’s me!  It’s really me, I promise!”  Chuck replied quickly.  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.  “I don’t know how to make you believe that, but it’s true.  And yes, I healed you.”

“So, what the  _hell_?  Are you an  _angel_ using Chuck’s  _corpse_?!”  You shouted at him angrily, grief welling up in you.

“I’m not an angel.  I was never dead.”  Chuck replied.  “I- uh.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t like lying to you.  I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“What are you saying?”  Your voice was quieter, and your eyes welled with unshed tears.  You had gone from anger to depression so quickly, it made your head spin.  This sounded worryingly similar to a breakup speech.

“No, no no.”  Chuck interrupted your inner monologue.  You frowned a little, his words making little sense after your last question.  “This isn’t a breakup.  I mean,  _you_ might not want to see  _me_ again, which is totally fine, but- I’m rambling.”

You laughed a little; the meandering rant that ranged wildly off-topic in an effort to reassure you soothed you.  This  _had_ to be  _your_ Chuck.  No one else would bother to duplicate  _that_.  Chuck smiled at you when you laughed.

“Sorry.  Really.  I’m alive, and yes, I healed you.  I also read your mind just now when you were wondering if I was breaking up with you.  There’s, uh, it turns out there’s a lot I didn’t tell you when we first met.  I’m so sorry I lied even after we slept together, but I couldn’t risk anyone finding out.”  Chuck’s eyes fixed on you, sorrowful and pleading.

“Okay.”  You spoke more to halt him than anything.  You wanted to think over what he’d said so far before he continued.  Chuck waited patiently while you thought for a moment; given what he’d just said, he’d probably heard your mental desire to think a little before he said more.  Whatever it was Chuck had been hiding from you, it was big.  It would be easy to be angry with him for lying at all.  The problem is, you were a  _hunter_.  Life  _isn’t_ simple.  You and Chuck were only together for a few months; and during that time, you were usually watched by Raphael (at the time, you’d tried not to think about how creepy it was to have a voyeur).  Whatever he hadn’t told you, he may have needed to keep from the angels.  And angels could read the minds of humans.  Even if you’d kept a perfect poker face, surely one of them would have found out from you.

“I think I can forgive you in principle.”  You answered finally.  “As long as your intention wasn’t to hurt anyone by keeping secrets.”

“It wasn’t!”  Chuck answered quickly.  “I know it doesn’t seem logical, but it was the best way to keep as many people safe as possible, I swear!”  You nodded slowly.

“I’m not going to like what I hear next, am I?  So, what are you; some rogue angel who can hear God and doesn’t want your brothers to know?”  You asked, trying to keep your tone light.  That probably wasn’t it; too much didn’t add up.  Angels and demons could see each other’s true forms.  If he was either, Raphael wouldn’t have been fooled.

“No, I’m not an angel.  I’m, uh.”  Chuck ran a hand nervously through his hair again, and glanced down at the floor.  You waited patiently.  Whatever this was, he probably hadn’t told anyone in a long time.  You owed him patience and the effort to not judge.  Chuck pursed his lips, before he returned his gaze to you.  His body language when he lifted his eyes had completely changed.  He stood perfectly straight, reminding you of how much taller he was than you; and that wasn’t something you thought about often.  His hands, which had been fidgeting nervously, stilled.  Chuck normally had a sort of ‘air of humility’ to him, for lack of a better phrase.  That aura now vanished so abruptly you felt almost whiplashed.  His eyes tried to look confident, but in them, you could see reflected his fear that you would reject him.  That soothed you.  Whatever he was about to say, Chuck  _hadn’t_ been lying about how he felt about you.

“I’m their father.”  Chuck finally told you, his words even and level.  “I’m God.”

You were stunned.  God.  Chuck was God.  The man you loved, the man you’d slept with wasn’t a man.  He was the being that had created the angels.  You couldn’t speak, overwhelmed with shock as your brain tried to process the news.

Enough seconds passed without you speaking that Chuck started to frown in worry.  He took a few steps towards you, and extended his hands.  They hovered on either side of your shoulders.  He didn’t touch you, but held them there close as if to catch you in case you wavered.

“Are you okay?”  Chuck asked, peering at you with concern.  His voice brought you out of the stunned silence you’d fallen into.  You looked up at him, and slapped him.

Hard.

Chuck recoiled with your slap, exclaiming in pain and backing away to fall into a seated position on the nearest bed.

“Okay.”  Chuck said, looking to the side and thinking aloud.  “I deserved that.”

“You abandoned them.”  You accused him furiously, pulling his attention back to you.  Chuck clutched the cheek you’d slapped with one hand and looked at you with wide, startled eyes.  

“Your angels.”  You continued.  “You created them to  _obey_ you, and then  _left_.  Do you have any  _idea_ how scared they were?  How much that hurt them?  How many of  _your_ children fell and died because you left?!  How could you  _do_ that to them?!”  You were almost screaming at the end of your rant.  Chuck just watched you as you yelled, looking dazed and almost worshipful.

“Wow.”  Chuck said aloud, waiting a few moments after you ceased talking to make sure you were done.  “I mean, I knew I gave you compassion.  A  _lot_ of compassion.”  Chuck dropped the hand holding his cheek, and his mouth quirked in a small, crooked smile.  “But you hear only now who I really am, and your only anger is on behalf of someone else.  Including a lot of people who hurt and tried to kill you.”  Chuck sounded a little awed and impressed.  You narrowed your eyes.  You were  _not_ amused at his reply.  You glared and took a step towards him, lifting a hand to slap him again.

“O-okay!”  Chuck quickly stood and backed away, raising a hand between you two as if to ward you off.  “Sorry!  Just, you kind of amaze me, is all.”  He sighed, and dropped his hand when you dropped yours.  You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him an impatient glare.

“I didn’t like leaving them.”  Chuck finally addressed your anger.  He glanced down and bit his lip, such sorrow in his gaze that you almost regret the question.  Almost.  “And yes, I feel their pain.  I feel every second of fear and pain all of them have.  I  _hate_ that it happened, and believe me, I’m just as angry at myself for it as you are.”  Chuck looked up again, fixing you with earnest blue eyes that make your breath catch.  “If there had been any other way, I  _swear_ I would have taken it.  But every other option was worse.  I saved as many as I could.”  Maybe you were gullible, but you couldn’t help but believe the sincerity in his voice and those eyes.  You sighed, dropped your head, and nodded.

“Okay.”  You answered his unspoken question.  “But-”

“I, hold on.”  Chuck interrupted you.  “I know you have a lot of questions, and that’s fair.  But please, I really need to know something first.”  You looked up at him curiously.  What on earth could  _God_ possibly need from  _you_?

“Is there any chance that you- that we- uh.”  Chuck tried to ask, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand nervously.  You exhaled sharply in a soft laugh, reassured at the familiar gesture.  Whatever else, a lot about him that you had loved before wasn’t an act.  “Is there any chance that you still love me?  That we could still…” Chuck trailed off, pleading eyes drinking in your face as though he never expected to see it again.  You laughed bitterly, drawing a pained and compassionate frown from him.

“What difference does  _that_ make?  You’re God.  Couldn’t just  _make_ me?”  Your bitterness and self-loathing filled your voice.  Of fucking  _course_ the only man it had really worked with, the only man who could love you turned out to be God.  You were probably just a temporary entertainment for him, anyway.

“Baby,” Chuck breathed, sympathy and reassurance packed full in his voice.  “No.”  Chuck was suddenly in your space, cupping your cheeks in his hands and forcing you to look at him.  Your breath mingled with his, and you could smell the familiar scents of ink and whiskey that was so very  _him_ that you almost started crying.  You’d missed him entirely too much.

“I love you.”  Chuck reminded you firmly.  “I still love you.  And not in a God-is-love kind of way.”  You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you at his last words.  He smiled back, slightly reassured.  “The last thing I ever wanted to do was leave,  _or_ hurt you.”  He looked down at your lips, hunger and yearning entering his gaze.  “Baby, I missed you so much.  Never stopped.  I watched you every second I was gone.  Protected you when I could.  I’ll never forgive myself for how much that hurt you.”  Chuck exhaled sharply, giving you a strong whiff of his faintly whiskey-scented breath.

“Then why aren’t you kissing me?”  You asked, your voice inexplicably breaking.

“Because I don’t know if you can ever for-” Chuck started.  Fed up with all the talk, you interrupted.  You went up on your toes and sealed your lips to his.  Chuck moaned, grateful and longing and  _finally_ touching you again.  His arms went around your back, pulling you into him.  You moaned, surrounded by his warmth and smell that you never thought you’d experience again.  You thought you’d lost him forever.  Chuck’s lips devoured yours, drawing little moans and whimpers from you as you surrendered to him.  Chuck easily lifted you in the air, and you gave a startled squeak as your legs dangled.  Moments later, your back hit a wall, and you were pressed between it and Chuck’s hard body.  Chuck continued to ravage your lips, trying to inhale you as though he were drowning and you were his only salvation.  You wrapped your dangling legs around his waist, digging the heels of your tennis shoes into his ass and trying to press him closer.  
  
A gasp left you as his hard cock pressed into you.  Chuck gave a growling moan and thrust against you, rubbing his cock on just the right spots.  You whimpered helplessly, assaulted by pleasure until your eyes crossed.  
  
Someone knocked on the door of your motel room.  
  
You groaned in irritation, accompanied by an irritated growl from Chuck.  He broke from your lips and rested his forehead against the wall next to your head.  You panted for a moment, still hoisted up in the air and trapped between him and the wall.  
  
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”  Chuck moaned in exasperation.  
  
“Who the hell is it?”  You grumped.  “Let’s just ignore them.”  
  
It was difficult to move your pelvis while hoisted in the air, as you didn’t have much to push off of, but you ground your hips into his a little, making his breath catch and his eyes snap over to meet yours.  
  
Chuck was silent for a moment, then his eyes brightened and he lifted his head to look at you.  Whoever it was knocked on the door again, but your curiosity was curtailed by Chuck placing another lingering kiss on your lips, before grabbing your hips and gently lowering you to the ground.  He stepped back, adjusting his pants to hide the enormous hard on that had been rutting against you moments before.  
  
“What are you doing?!”  You demanded as Chuck walked to the door.  One of his hands held yours tightly, and he pulled you with him.  
  
“Trust me.”  Chuck said brightly. You glared at him as he opened the door.  
  
“Can I speak to you about the Word of God?”  A woman said as soon as the door swung open.  
  
All that ran through your startled brain was  _lady, I’m not interested in God’s words.  Just in making him moan and scream my name._   Chuck barely stifled a chuckle, disguising it as a cough.  
  
You barely noticed her; you just glared at Chuck.  He smiled at both of you, and said something encouraging to the woman at the door as he pulled you into his arms, you back against his chest.  The way he held you and wouldn’t let go… it was almost as though he were afraid you’d disappear if he let you go, even for a moment.  The woman gave a fond smile at Chuck’s show of affection.  
  
“Uhhh,” you stuttered.  Talk about bad timing.  
  
“Sure!”  Chuck answered brightly.  “Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Matthew 28:19, right Sister?”  You shot him a glare as soon as the woman glanced away for a moment.  
  
“God’s love is a very important thing in my life.  He did give his only son for the world.”  Chuck explained to the woman, ignoring your quick glare.  “I’ve been trying to convince her of its power for some time.”  
  
“God will bless everyone who accepts him, no matter what.”  The woman told you earnestly.  “In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight. Proverbs 3:6.”  Chuck’s arms tightened around you then ever so slightly, making you smile despite yourself.  
  
“Um, thanks.”  You managed, a little confused by this turn of events.  
  
“You’re quite welcome.  He has a plan for all of us who answer his call of purpose.  Romans 8:28.”  She said cheerfully.  
  
“Oh yes,” Chuck grinned and started harshly grinding his erection into your ass.  You barely bit back a moan as he continued; “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’  Jeremiah 29:11.”  
  
“Yes, Brother!”  The woman nearly shouted with glee as Chuck continued quoting passages.  “Anything can be accomplished through the strength of the Lord.  Phil 4:13.”  
  
“Yes, Sister.  It’s very important we offer ourselves to Him completely.”  Chuck mused, squeezing you tighter, his arms hiding the fact that his thumbs were brushing across your nipples. “Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship. Romans 12:1”.

I’m going to leave you two with this pamphlet,” she replied, putting a white folded pamphlet on the table.  “Just remember; give yourself over to the power of God.  His love is too great for man to comprehend.”  
  
“Or contain.”  Chuck muttered in your ear as the woman left, closing the door behind her.  
  
The moment the door closed you turned to him.  “How….what….oh never the fuck mind!”  You flung yourself at him, sending the two of you flying onto the bed.

“You know Chuck; I knew you had a fondness for a burning bush-” you paused between kisses to rip off his shirt and belt.  “But this is fucking ridiculous!  Where’s a little of God’s wrath at being cockblocked when I need it?”

He stared at you wide eyed for a moment as you managed to work his pants down around his hips.  He gazed at you with the adorable mixed shock and desire of a normally dominant person surprised at their own arousal at the tables being turned on them for once.  “Maybe it’s time I make your walls come tumbling down.  After all, ‘vengeance is  _mine_ , sayeth the Lord’ and all?”

You stopped for a moment, just staring at the enormous erect cock below you.  You lick your lips; it had been too long since you’d had that cock in you, tasted him.  You missed him more than you could say.

Your mood was starting to turn brooding, so you glanced up at him with a grin and a joke on your tongue.  “You know, if the lore is to be believed, you sure used to say ‘behold’ a lot.  And looking at your cock, I can see why.”

Before he could form an answer, you had him fully in your throat.  There was an odd fluttering noise, and you distantly noticed that he’d removed both your clothes and his.  A loud groan left Chuck’s throat, and you glanced up to see the back of his head slam into the pillows.  His eyes fluttered shut in bliss as you eagerly bobbed your head on his cock and sucked for all you were worth.  You let out a soft moan at the noises that steadily dropped from Chuck’s mouth.  It was hard to believe that, after everything, you actually had this effect on him.  You felt yourself become uncomfortably wet at the thought of such a powerful being helpless and begging beneath you, and shifted in your prone position to press your legs together to relieve some of the pressure.

Chuck’s hand buried in your hair and cupped the back of your skull.  He didn’t push, just gently held you and stroked your hair lightly.  His hard cock seeped precum into your mouth, and you fluttered your eyes shut at the taste.  It was hard to describe; very sweet, and addicting.  You wanted more.  Chucks hips rose slightly, making little thrusts into you.  You rested one hand on his hip, holding him down so he didn’t accidentally hurt you, and moved the other beneath him.  When Chuck felt your hand cup his balls and caress them gently, he yelled your name and you felt his cock surge in your mouth.  His hand tightened on your hair, and he weakly tried to pull you off of him.

“Stop,” Chuck pleaded weakly.  “Please.  I’m close.”  You smirked around a mouthful of him.  ‘Stop’, huh?  Not a chance.

You redoubled your efforts, bobbing faster on him and sucking as hard as you could.  Chuck yelled your name again and thrashed under you.  You moaned sensuously, unbelievably turned on by having him helpless beneath you and writhing in bliss.  The vibration from your moans were the last straw, apparently.  Chuck screamed your name again, and exploded.  You whimpered eagerly, drinking down as much of him as you could.  You moved a hand to his cock, stroking him swiftly where he wouldn’t fit in your mouth as you milked him on as much as you could.  The lights in the room flickered, and one bulb popped and died as his orgasm seized control of his senses.  Your eyes flickered up, watching his writhing body as his eyes squeezed shut in bliss.  He looked incredible like this, lost to pleasure all because of you.  You felt a wave of love and lust for him sweep through you, heightening your arousal.

Eventually, his hips fell back to the bed and his cries of pleasure ceased.  You let his cock slip out of your lips and flop back down, gazing up at him curiously.  He was panting hard, clearly exhausted by the orgasm.  Before you could decide what to do, invisible hands grabbed your shoulders and  _yanked_ you up until you were laying on him, face to face.  Chuck wrapped weak, trembling arms around you and kissed you passionately.  One of his hands buried in your hair and held you captive to him as his mouth ravaged yours.

“You insane,” Chuck accused you between fierce kisses.  “Insatiable…. woman.  Almost got us caught.”  Chuck, it seemed, refused to go more than a couple of words before kissing you again, negating any chance you had at firing back.  You moaned into his mouth, aroused even further by his insistence.  That combined with how turned on you’d gotten while sucking him off, and you were nearly mindless with need at this point.  You tried to voice your complaint, but all words were swallowed by his lips on yours and his tongue in your mouth.  Chuck rolled over smoothly, pinning you beneath him as he continued to ravage your mouth.  The hand on the back of your head left it, stroking down your side gently, until you squealed and writhed, breaking the kiss as you wiggled away from him.

“You’re ticklish?”  Chuck asked with a paradoxically evil grin.  You glared at him, still pinned to thoroughly to get away.

“Don’t you dare.”  You ordered Chuck.

“Any other time, I’d jump on that.”  Chuck replied, dropping his head to your neck and kissing you softly behind your ear until you gave a tiny whimper.

“Did I earn God’s mercy, then?”  You couldn’t resist the pun with a giggle.  Chuck broke from sucking your neck to laugh softly.

“I’m not sure,” Chuck replied.  “Does  _this_ count as mercy?”  Chuck dropped his face to your neck and sucked hard.  Your head dropped to the bed and your eyes rolled back in your head.  Somehow, Chuck had found a spot on your neck you never told anyone about; the weird one that no other woman seemed to share that was oddly more sensitive than any other spot on your neck.  You usually never told men about it; too shy.  A few had found it on their own, but still, it was more often missed.  Chuck chuckled into your neck, and rubbed his bearded face against your sensitive skin, drawing little animal whimpers out of you until you ran out of breath and had to gasp for air.

“Hmmm,” Chuck hummed against your skin, the vibration sending even more sparks of pleasure running up your nerves and overwhelming your brain.  “And who do you think  _put_ this spot there?”  Chuck murmured.  He returned to sucking, his intense focus on driving you mad with pleasure making it difficult to process his words.  After a few moments, you remembered his confession that he could read your thoughts.

Holy shit.

“That’s right,” Chuck murmured in response to your revelation.  “I know everywhere on you that feels good, sweetheart.”

Chuck released your neck, and you let out a gasp of relief.  His mouth on your neck felt so good, you couldn’t think, and it aroused you at how helpless you felt beneath him.  His lips recaptured yours, and you moaned softly.  You never knew what you were getting with Chuck; some nights would be fierce and passionate, with you easily wrestled to the bed and tortured beneath him until you gave.  Other nights were softer and tender, with Chuck whispering his love for you into every inch of your skin.  The list went on.  His kiss now was soft and tender, making you limp beneath him as he wordlessly poured his love for you through his kiss.  You lifted your hands from where they were buried in the sheets, and wrapped them around his shoulders.

A wave of sensation traveled through you.  It was difficult to describe; a sort of tingling feeling, that swept you from head to toe, drawing a pleased whimper from you, before settling on your breasts.  You gasped, disrupting your wrestle with Chuck for dominance of the kiss, as it suddenly felt like Chuck had your breasts squeezed in both hands.  Your nipples tingled and pulled, and you moaned into Chuck’s mouth as his (was it still grace if it was God instead of an angel?) power made both your nipples feel simultaneously sucked and bit and nipped and twisted until you couldn’t see straight.  Chuck broke from your mouth as you writhed helplessly under him, watching you with a confident, pleased expression.  Your hands scrabbled and scratched at his shoulders, seeking a release from the pleasure being thrust on you.

You were realizing now just how much Chuck had always been holding back during sex with you before.  When he finally released your breasts some time later, you stared up at him, wide eyed and panting, filled with a burning need for the real him.

“Chuck,” you whined, not quite sure what you were asking him for.

“It’s been too long, baby.”  Chuck cooed at you.  “Let’s make sure we’re on the same page before we go further.  Tell me the safe word so I know you remember it.”

“Unngg,” you moaned beneath him, still trying to regather your brain and wits.  “Halo.”  You finally managed after a few moments.

“Good girl.”  Chuck praised.  “One more time.”  His demand was quiet and calm, but no less powerful.

“Halo.”  You repeated, your voice calmer and more confident this time.

It was like someone had cut the last tether to the gentle part of Chuck.  He surged forward, kissing you deeply, passion crackling white hot beneath the surface.  You met his kisses eagerly with your hands tangled in his.  Chuck brought your hands up and planted them on the bed on either side of your head, pinning them there while his mouth ravaged you.  The kiss didn’t last long before he broke from your lips, leaving you panting and staring at him.

“I almost forgot how good you taste,” he mumbled, finding that damn spot on your neck again making you squeak and writhe mindlessly below him until you were nothing but pure sensation.  Jolts of pleasure from his mouth on your neck, and his beard rubbing roughly against your sensitive skin electrified you, overwhelming your brain with positive feedback and making you writhe and whine beneath him on the bed.

“Going to taste every inch of you, so wonderful I don’t have to hide from you anymore.”  Chuck murmured into your neck, the surge of love and desire made your head spin at the reverence in his voice.  Sure, he might be  _god_ ; creator of the cosmos yada yada et cetera, but the fact he cared about you to this level made your heart do flip flops in your chest.

The thought was quickly pushed aside as Chuck nipped your neck sharply, sending a new surge of sensation through you and bringing your mind back to the present.  Suddenly, you could feel the barest ghost of a touch between your legs.  Almost like when you got an itch without any external explanation.  Yelps and mewls escaped your lips as you tried to surge closer only to find your hips firmly pinned in place.

“Chuucckkkkk!!!”  You whined piteously, your eyes wild with lust.

Chuck looked up at you, a questioning “hmm?”coming from his mouth.  “Something you need, babe?”

You growled and tried unsuccessfully to rock your hips on the bed.  “Yeah, try you fucking me sixteen ways from Sunday!”  Chuck laughed, a wide smile breaking out of his face and stealing your breath as the invisible force between your legs continued to tease you, playing lightly with your outer lips and delivering light touches to your inner thighs, almost like his mouth was down there and sucking you everywhere  _but_ where you wanted him.

“That sounds suspiciously like blasphemy to me.”  Chuck commented, arching an eyebrow.  You had a surge of irritation for how easy it was for him to sound calm while his grace was between your legs, driving you mad with need.  “Sundays are supposed to be reserved for worship.”  Chuck chided you playfully, his voice still annoyingly serious and unaffected.

“I’ll make it up to you.”  It took physical effort for you to gasp out your reply, as Chuck’s teasing made you feel like your brain was slowly leaking out your ears while pleasure was very gradually overtaking your senses.  “Let me go, and I’ll worship between your legs.”

“You already did that,” Chuck reminded you, a fond smirk on his face.  A tiny tendril of his grace slipped, just barely caressing your clit with a feather-light touch.  Your mouth dropped open to release a gasp, and your eyes crossed and vision went blurry, the tiny concession after so much teasing dropping your higher thinking down to the level of making base animal whimpers from pleasure for a few long moments before you could summon any coherent thought.

“I suppose,” Chuck said, your brain taking a moment to realize he was talking.  “That your worship has earned you a reward.”  Chuck mused, looking thoughtful.  “Any ideas on what you want?”

His grace’s steady work between your legs made it difficult to formulate thought, let alone speech.  Still, you took a moment to regather some of your scattered wits to prepare a reply,  _demanding_ he put something,  _anything_ inside you.  Just as you opened your mouth, however, his grace flicked your clit ever so slightly.  A new, powerful surge of pleasure went through your restrained body, making you tremble with bliss and stealing your breath and prepared demand.

“Sorry?  What was that?”  Chuck asked, his mouth right next to your ear now, close enough that you could feel his breath.  You whimpered steadily, trembling still at the single flick.   _Fuck_ , this man was a master of anticipation.  Your hands, held above your head and pinned to the pillow, clenched into fists as you struggled to maintain some sense of control.  Chuck nuzzled and kissed your jaw lightly while you closed your eyes and tried to force sense back into your brain through the pleasure and burning  _need_ currently overwhelming you.

“Pl- nnnnnnggggg,” you tried to plead, but his grace barely caressed around your clit, making speech briefly impossible as he forced you into a state where you had no choice but to surrender to desire.  His lips touched your jaw again, nipping lightly and resuming your attention on your attempt to speak.

“Chu- uuuungh.  Chuck, fuck!  Goddamnit, Chuck, pleaa- oh!”  Chuck didn’t wait for you to finish your sentence; a powerful tendril of grace thrust inside of you, filling you completely hard and fast and stretching you to just before the point of pain.  Chuck had teased you so much that as soon as he filled you, your words cut off.  You gasped, unable to process the feeling, and screamed his name and came instantly.  Chuck gave a pained groan, buried his face in your neck.  The grace between your legs thrusted hard and fast, every inch of it inside you grabbing and torturing every inch of you it came into contact with.  Your poor, spasming pussy was pounded and licked and sucked and stroked all through the orgasm by the phantom-cock, extending your explosion of pleasure out until you felt the beginnings of a sore throat.

It felt like years later that Chuck  _finally_ let you come down from your high, arched back dropping back down to the bed with a thump as exhausted whimpers came from your throat.  Chuck still laid on top of you, face buried in your neck and his warmth surrounding you as he panted almost as hard as you were.  You felt his cock, rock-hard again, rubbing near your pussy and you let out a pained, overstimulated whine.

The two of you spent a moment just laying there and panting, before Chuck’s weight lifted off you.  You glanced up at him, curious, as he lifted to his knees and moved down your body.  Chuck lay down between your legs, your breath catching when you saw his face level with your groin.  Heat flooded through you as you realized what he intended to do.

“Chuck,” you breathed, eyes wide.  You were still tired from the last orgasm, you were definitely not ready for another one.  Chuck grinned at you, eyes glinting in mischief.  He leaned forward, much of his face disappearing between your legs.  Your breath came quickly, and you dropped your head back down to the pillows as anticipation made you wetter despite yourself.  You felt his breath on your outer lips as he paused there for a moment, drinking in the sight of you.  Chuck stayed still long enough that an involuntary whine dropped from your lips and you wiggled your hips impatiently.  A stronger breath of air hit your nethers, making you gasp, as Chuck laughed softly at his effect on you.

“‘And God beheld all that he had created,’” Chuck quoted, staring at your vagina with an expression of mixed awe and hunger.

Finally, you felt his wet tongue against your outer lips, licking all the way up your outer slit.  Your hips twitched, trying to thrust towards him, but his grace’s grasp on them halted any movement.  You and Chuck groaned simultaneously.  You could still feel his breath against you, quick with arousal like yours.

“‘And he saw that it was  _good_.’”  Chuck purred; it took you a moment to recognize the quote that he was finishing.  The groan that emerged from your was mixed arousal and irritation at his horrible joke.

When Chuck had moved down to eat you out, you had expected merciless immediate stimulation.  You had been very, very wrong.

Chuck continued with his tongue, not once penetrating your folds. His tongue even touched the crease where leg met hip, making you squeal.

“Chuck, please!”  You cried, desperate again for something inside you.

“No,” Chuck hummed, licking your slit again and making you cry out.  “Not the name I’m looking for.  Try again.”

Desire made you dizzy, but after a moment, his words penetrated.  You narrowed your eyes, and lifted your head to look down at him.

“You’ve  _got_ to be kidding me.”  You demanded flatly.  Chuck lifted his head, taking a momentary break from tormenting you, and grinned.

“You know what I want.”  Chuck told you calmly.  He looked so adorable and harmless, it was hard to believe that this man laying between your legs was driving you to the brink of sexual madness.  “Say my name, and I’ll give you what you want.”

“If that isn’t the most ridiculous- oooooh…”  You tried to protest, but Chuck quickly leaned down and resumed his work with his tongue.  You bit your bottom lip as he tormented you, now deliberately holding in the oath that wanted to spring from your mouth.  Moans and whimpers dropped from your mouth as Chuck’s tongue continued to explore you, never quite where you wanted him.

“Just tell me what I want to hear, baby.”  Chuck murmured into your nether lips, the vibrations barely traveling though you and drawing a whimper.  His mouth and tongue continued to work on you for minutes as you bit your bottom lip raw to hold in the name that tried to escape.  Meanwhile, Chuck’s tongue kept coming back to your slit, licking up what moisture escaped.

“Didn’t,” you began, panting with desire and effort to think through the torturous pleasure of something you’d read some time ago.  “Jews think- can’t say the name of- fuuuuck….”

Chuck stopped for a long moment, laughing.  “If you can still remember that, I’m obviously not being thorough enough.”

“Then fucking  _do_ it already, Chuck!”  You demanded through gritted teeth.

“Just say the magic word, y/n.”  Chuck purred, laughing a little at your desperation.

“God damnit, Chuck, I fucking swear,” you growled at him, frustrated beyond reason and needing anything inside you.

“Eh.”  Chuck replied with a slight shrug.  “Close enough.”

You had dropped your head back to the pillows, getting tired of holding it up to glare at Chuck.  So you had no warning when Chuck buried his face in you, thrusting tongue and grace inside you simultaneously and devouring you as though he was starving.  You screamed his name and tried to thrash on the bed, but his grace has you thoroughly pinned down.  His beard rubbed sensuously against your nethers, arousing you much more than it should.  A tendril of his grace went immediately for your g-spot, fixing there and sucking mercilessly.

“Chuck, god, please, fuck!”  You hardly paid any attention to the words coming from your mouth as you tried to thrash under his grasp.  As sensitive as you already were from the last orgasm, that was all it took before you were coming again into his eager mouth.  His hands lifted your hips off the bed and pulled you into him as his tongue lapped inside you.  He eagerly drank you as though it were all he craved, his tongue and grace inside of you milking your orgasm on and on until you’d worry for your health, were you with anyone else.

When your orgasm finally died, you gasped in grateful gulps of air and wondered if maybe now you could have a moment to breathe.

The answer to your half-thought question came quickly as Chuck suddenly appeared above you and hilted his cock in you without warning.  You didn’t have enough energy or air to scream, and settled for pained whimpers.

Thankfully, Chuck didn’t move for a long moment; he just rested fully inside you, his cock twitching with the need to pound you through the floor, and gently nuzzled your face as your exhausted pussy tried to clench around him.

“Chuck, please.”  You begged pitifully.

“No,” Chuck replied playfully.  “That’s not what I asked you to say.”  His hips pulled back, drawing his cock almost totally out of you.  He hovered for a moment, before thrusting back inside you so hard you cried out and saw stars.

“God!”  You screamed, pushed past your limit and no longer able to deny him.  “God, please!”  Chuck hummed and placed kisses along your jawline.  His eyes slid shut for a moment as you cried for him, and a low groan was pulled from his chest.

“Fuck,” Chuck swore hoarsely, and then all bets were off.

You weren’t sure anymore what was his hands and what was his grace, but your whole body was cradled in his grasp, holding you steady as his hips made wild, steady thrusts into you so hard you were nothing short of astonished that the bed held up.  You screamed and cried his name, no longer able to deny his demands to call ‘god’.  Chuck tilted his hips and his cock hit your g-spot on every thrust until you were coming  _again_.

It barely even slowed him down.  You were bleary and confused from yet another explosive orgasm and didn’t even have time to register the fact that his cock was still hard inside you before his hips were thrusting into yours again.  His grace slid between you and tweaked your clit, making you jerk into him in time with a thrust, sinking him deeper than before.  Chuck shouted and threw his head back on his shoulders, bliss taking over his expression.

“ _Fuck_ , do that again!”  Chuck pleaded.  His grace tweaked your clit mercilessly then, forcing jerks from you as you gave agonized whines and cries.  Poor Chuck was so close after so much teasing, it was only a few more thrusts before his cock swelled and he came hard inside you.  One last tweak of your clit and you tumbled into orgasm right behind him.  The lights in the room dimmed momentarily, before your latest orgasm took over your senses, flinging you higher and higher into bliss until you blacked out from the pleasure.

When you came to some time later, Chuck was lying on his back in the bed, and you were on your side cuddled against him.  Chuck’s eyes flicked to yours as soon as you woke, watching you with a lazy concern.

“Are you alright?”  Chuck asked, a little anxious.  “You were out for awhile.”

“Mmmmm.”  You made a vague happy noise and stretched, the tingling warmth of his grace wrapping your body again as you and he both evaluated how sore you were.  Much to your surprise, it wasn’t very much.  Your session with Chuck had easily been the wildest you’d ever managed; he had probably healed you of the worst of the aftereffects.  “Mostly, yeah.  I’m guessing I have you to thank for that.”

Honest to… well, much to your surprise, Chuck actually  _blushed_.  God blushed.

“Well, I, uh, I didn’t want you to-” Chuck’s stuttering trailed off as you started giggling.

“After everything, I gotta say I’m relieved that you haven’t changed.”  You told him, leaning over to plant a chaste kiss on his lips.

Truthfully, there was nowhere you’d rather be.


End file.
